And yet another lyrics post, this time to the song No Sleep ‘Till Nairobi by the band S’ who seem to have gone out of their way to make their name impossible to either conjugate or Google. No matter, the song – from the far off days of 2006 – stands as perhaps the best invocation of the loneliness of the long distance traveler ever penned.

No Sleep ‘Till Nairobi

S’

No sleep ’till Nairobi,I’m sorry to leave,But honey, you know me, and you know that I need,To shake off this laugh track,And wander alone,But I’m always half back here at home,

Where we’re running frantic,Trying to move,Above the Atlantic, I got nothing to prove,I’m solving this cocktail,While you’re on the run,And I’m watching this rock sail round the sun,

No sleep ’till Nairobi,These weeks are too long,But as the days go, we sing traveling songs,To hum throughout Heathrow,Yeah, it’s duty-free,Are you using that seat?No, I guess it’s just me,

Yeah, I guess it’s just me,

Oh, I guess it’s just me,

Out on the tarmac,Boarding a plane,Staring at stars that, I cannot name,Everyone’s weary,What time is it now?Well ready, ’cause here we go somehow,

No sleep till Nairobi,The credit card’s cashed,Sick of this so we, slowly get smashed,When we don’t feel well we’ll,Say our goodbyes,But I can call from my cell, ’till the battery dies,

We find ourselves, in cheap hotels, wondering why we cannot sleep,We sit and stare, just outside where, strangers straggle through the streets,And up this late, we compensate, with hot black coffee and CNN,Until it’s clear, that though we’re here, it doesn’t mean we see an end,

To lonely drives, and drinks in dives, and anxious rides to who knows where,(No sleep ’till Nairobi, I’m sorry to leave, But honey, you know me, and you know that I need,)Propeller planes, and Amtrak trains, and soaking rains in summer air,(To shake off this laugh track, and wander alone, but I’m always half back here at home,)And since that’s so, it’s time to go, so grab your clothes from off the floor,(No sleep ’till Nairobi, I’m sorry to leave, But honey, you know me, and you know that I need,)I think we might, just chase this night, that’s passing right outside the door,(To shake off this laugh track, and wander alone, but I’m always half back here at home,)

Where we’re running frantic,I’m trying to move,Above the Atlantic, I got nothing to prove,I’m solving this cocktail,While you’re on the run,And I’m watching this rock sail round the sun,

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About

The Wyrmlog consists of the disordered thoughts and curmudgeonly ramblings of Denys the Purple Wyrm, author of the Tales of the Geek Underclass, creator of the Zurvar language, Justified and Ancient Steregorounder and Lord Admiral of the Unreliable Oceans of his own mind…